


The Harp

by sylveklistolkientrash



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Ambiguous location, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, ambiguous character, ambiguous everything who are we kidding, ambiguous setting, anyways I guess I'm actually posting this whoop whoop, balance, dark vs light, i wrote this for an assignment, inspired by "but we're both guilty of black and white thinking", or at least I tried to make it like magical realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylveklistolkientrash/pseuds/sylveklistolkientrash
Summary: Inspired by the painting "The Harp"  from The Mysteries of Harris Burdickhttp://groupkidstories.blogspot.com/2009/06/harp.htmlA young boy has just completed a long, arduous journey to a beautiful clearing, only to find that things might not be as black and white as they seem...Hi! I wrote this for an assignment and I just figured I'd post it on here since I spend so much time here :PPlease comment if you even see this or give it the light of day, as I don't expect much! :D





	The Harp

"So it’s true," he thinks, "It’s really true. This has all been worth it." He has worked so hard to reach this world of light, and he has finally arrived. He steps out into the clearing and stares in awe at a shining golden harp, which has just played a short fanfare as if celebrating his arrival, near a stream that seems almost too clear to be real. Feeling incredibly triumphant, he exclaims and jumps around enthusiastically. "After all," he thinks, "I have traveled all this way for naught if I don’t let myself finally be content." Exhaustion will surely sneak up later, but for now, he has boundless energy he can expend on exploring his new surroundings. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he looks around in an attentive matter for the first time since he has entered this open space. 

The contrast between the dark woods where he has just been, and the glistening stream that lies ahead of him is stark. The shadows of the woods feel stuffy and viscous, like dark molasses pooling inside of a jar. In contrast, the air near the stream feels light and cool; each time the sun catches the water, glimmering multicolored reflections shine brightly on the surface. The trees smell like freshly fallen pine needles, and there is an ambient silence settling over the clearing. 

The small bushes dotting the edge of the stream catch his attention, and he finds them to be covered in every kind of berry imaginable; from blueberries to blackcurrants, strawberries to salmonberries, and goji berries to gooseberries. He laughs in delight, before sampling a few from each of the dozens of bushes. He finds them to be satisfyingly sugary, and eats until he is content. He flops onto the prickly grass beneath him, and stares up into the blinding light radiating from the sky above the stream. “That’s strange; the sky between the gaps in the trees in the forest was always dark. I wonder what makes this sky so bright?” he whispers to himself. He decides it is best not to dwell on the dark place from whence he came and closes his eyes, finally submitting to his desire to sleep for a very, very long time. 

As he wakes up the next day, the first thing he sees behind his eyelids is red, and he is startled by the brightness of the dulled color. He blinks his eyes open, and sees the dazzling sky above him. He bolts upright, remembering his surroundings, and registers that he feels a bit cold, rather than the oppressive warmth that he is so used to from the forest. Sitting on one of the large rocks next to the stream, he basks in this unusual experience. He reaches up idly for his lucky necklace, the final possession remaining from the time before this journey. It is the only thing connecting him to the time of “before,” and he looks at it every time he needs to be reminded of how far he has come. His hands grasp at emptiness, and he jumps up in alarm, beginning to search on the rocks, near the bushes, and even in the clear stream. Finally, he turns around in resignation towards the forest. He had been hoping to avoid a return trip, but this material possession means too much to him for him to not turn back now. He pokes his head between two trees, and hesitantly takes his first step backward. He pauses. The darkness doesn’t feel as suffocating as he had remembered. "I forgot how warm it is in here," he notes, "I guess it’s just because the clearing has such a chill to it." 

After an hour of determined searching, he finds his small moon pendant necklace, and returns to the blinding clearing. The harp quietly hums, and it seems a bit less reflective than it did before. The glimmering water is detering in its brightness, and the sunlight seems to weigh down on him without its customary warmth. He stares around in confusion. "Everything was so perfect here but now… now, everything just feels off," he thinks. He shakes himself, and decides that a sugary snack will surely shift his perspective. He makes a feast of the berries, and lies himself down, ready to try again after a night of deep sleep. 

The following day, when he sees the blinding red behind his eyelids, he expects it. He sits up blearily and fiddles with his necklace absentmindedly. He goes through his routine without enthusiasm; eating the berries, drinking from the stream, and gazing into the light sky. Everything feels bland and repetitive, almost as if the same day is repeating over and over in a never-ending loop. He glances at the harp, which has not made a peep since his reentry into the clearing after retrieving his necklace. It no longer looks shiny or even matte; it has begun to gather a healthy layer of rust, presumably from the mist blowing from the stream. Looking over into the dark forest, he remembers:

"In the forest, there is a harsh warmth threatening to suffocate you with every step. It is the bitter overwhelming feeling that comes when something amazing has occurred, but one is so emotionally exhausted as a result of it that they cannot enjoy it, and they wish it had not happened so they would not have to be so tired. In the forest, the water is murky but flavorful, and the sparse shrubs are covered in bitter nuts. In the forest, the molasses darkness is inescapable, and anything is possible under the shelter of its concealment."

He had hated all of these elements when the forest was his entire world, but now, he is perplexed. "Surely, if everything is the exact opposite of the forest, it should allow me to be happier in this new environment than I ever had felt there." The light clearing feels frigidly cold in comparison to the harsh warmth, and blindingly bright next to the concealing darkness. He feels incredibly exposed under all the light without any dark to protect him. The berries are as sickly sweet as cough syrup next to the bitter nuts, and the water is incredibly bland next to the mysterious rivers in the forest. 

Uncertainty suddenly washes over him like a tidal wave, and the idea of what he should do next begins to plague him. Pacing along the banks of the stream, he wonders, "Should I go back to the forest?" The fact that he is even considering this causes him to pause in his tracks, and the reality of his situation suddenly hits him. He worked long and hard to reach this place of bliss, and now he is facing the possibility of all that being for nothing. “Nothing makes sense!” he exclaims aloud, using his voice for the first time since this solitary voyage of his has begun. The sentence comes out cracked and broken, and he suddenly feels lost. He stumbles backward, turning at the last second to see the stream behind him. The last thing he sees before hitting the water is his reflection, with its wide, heterochromatic eyes and tousled brown curls. 

Wheezing and coughing, he quickly pulls himself out of the water onto one of the flat rocks. He flops onto his back, panting while he stares into the headache- inducing bright sky above him. He glances over to the murky darkness. If only I could live in the brightness for some of the time, and the darkness for the rest, he thinks. He bolts upright, and his body protests at the sudden movement after such a traumatizing tumble. "What if," he ponders, "I could stay in the light during the day, and the darkness could protect me as I sleep? What if I could make a feast of both the berries and nuts? What if I could learn to accept both these extremes instead of choosing one of them, and divide my time equally between them each?" Feeling as though he has found the perfect solution, he allows a small smile to creep onto his face. A mighty rumble shakes the ground, and he is thrown down from the force of it. Right before everything turns to black, the once-shining harp turns to dust as a blinding ray of light reaches out from the forest, consuming his entire surroundings. 

A familiar red is filtering through his eyelids. He sits up, preparing for another day of monotony and recurrence. When he finally opens his eyes, he sees a sprig of hazelnuts with spiny leaves dangling next to him. He looks back up at the sky, and back down to the shrub. The two images being presented to his brain cannot seem to reconcile, and he looks around in confusion.

The sky is as blindingly bright as ever, but the glistening stream is flanked by trees that are characteristic of the ominous forest, and there are bushes of berries and shrubs with nuts scattered across the sparse forest that seems to expand into the horizon on all sides. It’s as if someone took the forest, removed the darkness, and intermingled its features with those of the clearing. He looks down into the stream, staring back at the confused person within his reflection, where white bits of fluff float behind him. 

Frowning, he stares up at the blue and white sky, noticing that it has darkened by a few shades, no longer retaining its status of blinding brightness. That’s strange, he thought, I’ve never noticed the sky changing colors before. He absentmindedly gazes at the clouds mingling and mixing, observing how they shift into shape after shape. As time begins to pass, the sky becomes darker and darker, until oranges, pinks, and purples explode across the sky in a kaleidoscope of colors. He stares up at the world in awe, observing the slow shift as these colors too begin to fade. Before long, a lovely milky midnight blue covers the horizon, and millions and millions of twinkling lights are scattered among the twilight azure. 

Staring up at the sky in wonder, he reflects on the two disparate places that had merged to become one, allowing him to finally achieve the balance for which he had been searching for so long. The blinding light sky lifts him during the day, and the molasses darkness protects him during the night. No light is perfect, and no darkness is completely devoid of stars. "Even though my destination wasn’t worth it, my journey certainly was," he surmises. Gazing contentedly at the rising dawn, he knows he is finally at peace.


End file.
